


Moody

by apple_08



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, also horde squad, and shadow weaver's a+ parenting, its mostly catradora but there's a tiny bit of kyle/rogelio in the bg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_08/pseuds/apple_08
Summary: "Catra still refuses to talk, but she takes the blanket and spreads it out over both their laps.  Dinner will be in 20 minutes, and after that, they’ll have to retreat to their own bunks (at least until lights out).  Adora is so infuriating it sometimes makes Catra see red.When Adora places her hand over Catra’s hand, Catra thinks she can feel red too."or, Catra and Adora don't know how to talk to each other, but they understand each other anyways.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Kyle/Rogelio (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115





	Moody

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is a song!fic. Don't judge me. Inspired by Moody - Maye. This is 110% a Catradora song and I would recommend listening to it while you read. 
> 
> Also this is an homage to tiny repressed lesbians in the Horde not knowing how to apologize to each other but loving each other anyway.
> 
> P.S. I apologize for the format. I didn't know how to incorporate the song lyrics and make them look pretty. Suggestions appreciated.

* * *

_Its so strange_

_Usually the things we say aren’t what we really mean to say_

* * *

“You’re such an idiot.” Catra holds the ice pack gingerly over the bruise on Adora’s forehead.

Adora winces, grabbing tightly at Catra’s wrist to hold the ice pack away for a moment. After a few seconds, she gently places it back on.

Catra looks at her with her brow furrowed, and her lips sucked in between her teeth.

Adora’s neck heats up -probably due to exhaustion- and she lets go of Catra’s wrist so she can scratch the back of her head. 

“Yeah,” she throws in an awkward laugh, “I know.”

* * *

_Who’s to blame?_

_We spin around in circles, you’d think that by now we’d make a different shape_

* * *

After they finish getting changed, Adora dumps the half-used ice pack in the trash can. There’s no hiding her bruise anyway, and they can’t hide away in the locker rooms forever. Octavia will have a word with her later (and several strong tentacles smashing into Adora’s side) and then it’ll be over. Then she can slink back to her bunk in peace, lay down, and pretend this whole thing never happened.

Catra becomes unusually fussy with her, checking her eyes, her pulse, her temperature, then her eyes over and over again. When the other cadets see the welt on Adora’s forehead and snicker, she unsheaths her claws and snarls at them, until they’re the only two left in the barracks. 

Adora is so tired. She just wants this to be over with. Without thinking she reaches for Catra’s hand, and Catra -too stunned to fight back- gets dragged onto Adora’s bed with her.

“Stay,” she mumbles into her pillow, which she was already falling asleep on.

Catra doesn’t reply. Adora hears her moving around, and she hopes against hope that Catra will just listen for once, and do what she asks. She thinks she remembers feeling Catra’s hand on her shoulder, and her breathing on her neck, before she’s being picked up and tossed out of her bunk.

“Get up, Cadet,” Octavia growls.

Adora forces herself to open her eyes.

* * *

_I’ll put my best foot forward_

* * *

Adora manages to escape severe punishment by taking Octavia’s laundry duty for a week. It wasn’t like her to avoid punishment, especially one that was deserved, but Octavia hadn’t come to her just to beat her up for failing her simulation; Octavia, instead, wanted to ask her about the stolen pain medication she found in the shower drain.

Adora swallowed thickly. Obviously Catra had stolen them. Instead of admitting who did it, she suggested that to make up for the general insubordination of the cadets, she would take on extra chores. 

It wasn’t like Octavia to give in to such a spineless request, but she must have been feeling merciful that day.

* * *

_I’ll trace my steps back_

* * *

That… or she already knew Shadow Weaver had her own form of punishment she intended to dole out. When Adora returns to the barracks, Catra is gone, and Adora instinctively know where she is. 

She picks up her mattress and lays back down in bed. Its too cold. She rolls over onto her left side and onto her right. Its still too cold. She sighs in frustration. She wishes Catra were here. She wishes Catra would stop getting in trouble and be here with her instead.

* * *

_I’ll lean a little closer just to take a whiff of that_

* * *

She turns around and lays her head over her blanket by where her feet usually are. She presses her face into the worn-out thread. Something familiar about the smell makes her tired. She yawns, and begins to fall asleep.

* * *

_You seem a bit distracted, a little off track_

* * *

When Catra comes back she isn’t the same. Adora is used to that. She’s never the same after she’s seen Shadow Weaver. A lump forms in her throat that makes it impossible to talk. Instead she reaches for Catra’s hand.

Catra hisses and snatches her hand away. She climbs up to the top bunk, and Adora hears her thud against the thin mattress. Adora may have slept for a couple hours but they were restless. She isn’t good at sleeping alone. 

Annoyed, she climbs up to the top bunk.

* * *

_You’ll turn the light on_

* * *

Catra yanks her blanket over her head, still hissing, curled up in a little ball.

* * *

_I’ll set you right back_

* * *

Adora pulls the blanket off.

* * *

_You do me when I’m feeling moody_

* * *

Catra shoves at Adora and takes her blanket back, turning away from Adora completely.

Adora still doesn’t know what to say; she never knows what to say. She rests her chin on the edge of Catra’s bed, and thinks, maybe she could even fall asleep like this, legs hanging off the side, the top of her head just an inch away from Catra’s back. Close enough, she thinks, and yawns, then reaches again for Catra’s blanket.

They play a little tug of war with the blanket, with Catra become more and more reckless, until she yanks so hard the corner of it tears off. She stares at Adora with wide eyes.

“I’m going to get in trouble for this.”

* * *

_We don’t say excuse me when we fight_

* * *

Adora’s senses are all at a hundred now. Catra is mad at her, and Catra being mad at anyone is scary, but Catra being mad at Adora is the absolute worst.

She lets go of Catra’s blanket immediately.

“You can have mine,” she offers.

When Catra’s eyes narrow Adora retreats back down the ladder and quickly bundles up her own blanket, tossing it up at Catra. 

“Here,” she says, climbing back, “I’m serious.” She quickly grabs Catra’s tattered one and throws it back down on her own bed.

Catra runs a hand over Adora’s blanket and laughs, resigned.

“She’ll still blame me for it.”

No she won’t, Adora wants to say, but she doesn’t, because it isn’t true. Instead she forces herself up on the mattress, and throws her arm around Catra’s shoulders.

I’m sorry, she wants to say, but what comes out instead is, “I missed you. Can I sit here with you for a minute?”

* * *

_You seduce me when I’m feeling moody_

* * *

Catra still refuses to talk, but she takes the blanket and spreads it out over both their laps. Dinner will be in 20 minutes, and after that, they’ll have to retreat to their own bunks (at least until lights out). Adora is so infuriating it sometimes makes Catra see red. 

When Adora places her hand over Catra’s hand, Catra thinks she can feel red too.

* * *

_You know how to do it, just right. Just right, just right, just right_

* * *

Adora has never needed Catra for anything.

Catra used to think she did, when they were pre-cadets, in one-piece polyester jumpsuits. Adora couldn’t stretch her limbs as far as Catra, jump as high, run as fast. Catra would challenge her to a race, and then only after she’d beaten her, she’d circle back, and keep pace with Adora until she finished.

That wasn’t good enough for Adora.

Adora had to be better than that. She’d spend extra hours training when the other cadets were playing games, and she’d get extra help from the senior cadets, at Shadow Weaver’s request.

When Adora finally beat Catra in hand to hand combat, she’d high fived all the other cadets before going back to help Catra up to her feet.

No, Adora doesn’t need her for anything, Catra thinks to herself, even as Adora leans her head on Catra’s shoulder, and pulls Catra’s arm around her hip.

* * *

_Why don’t we_

_Set our pride aside so we can see if we were really meant to be_

* * *

This year Adora is going to make it to Force Captain. They both know it. The question is whether or not Catra will become Force Captain as well.

Adora is great a hand to hand combat, top of her strategy class, and has the entire Horde Manifesto memorized by heart.

Catra can occasionally best Adora in hand to hand combat but chooses not to, skips her strategy class, and dumped her copy of the Horde Manifesto in the trash the day she got it. 

When they’re being handed their weekly evaluations, Adora can’t help but strain her eyes to catch a glimpse of Catra’s marks. She’s too slow (as usual) and Catra crumples it up and puts it in her mouth before anyone can see.

The guard on duty grabs Catra by her hair and slams her down on the ground. None of the other cadets react. They stand still, eyes forward, until he’s done chewing Catra out. Then he stands back up at full height, salutes them, and they stay saluted until he leaves the locker room so they can get changed.

* * *

_Seems to me_

_We put on a show but only we know what goes on behind the scenes_

* * *

Adora is the last to lower her hand, but the first to look down at Catra, who’s grabbing at her throat and choking, half the wad of paper having gotten stuck as she was kicked in the gut before she could swallow properly. She watches Catra struggle for a moment, paralyzed with fear, until Lonnie walks back kicks Catra once more, and the rest of the paper comes out in a sopping wet mess.

Adora drops down to her knees.

“Are you okay?”

Catra wheezes out a laugh.

“That one tasted like a B+. My best mark yet.”

Adora frowns. “Catra you have to be nicer to our instructors, you can’t just… you have to-“

“-I have to what?” She pushes herself up to her feet and wipes the drool off her mouth with the back of her hand. “Be perfect like you?” She laughs mirthlessly. “Not really my style.”

“I’ll say,” Lonnie mutters, and Adora grabs Catra’s waist before she can attack her.

“Catra stop!”

“Adora, can you please get her under control?”

Catra growls at the idea of being “controlled” and wrests free of Adora’s grip long enough to get a swipe at Lonnie’s arm. Now Lonnie pivots, ready to swing back at Catra, and Adora releases her, going to stand in between both of them hoping they’ll stop.

Catra retracts her claws at the last second, and throws her arm around Adora’s neck, getting her into a headlock that ironically saves her from Lonnie’s punch. 

“I-I’m sorry Adora,” Lonnie regains her balance, realizing her mistake, then redirects her focus back to Catra, “that was your fault!”

“It was my fault,” Adora interrupts. “I wanted both of you to stop fighting each other, so stop!”

She feels heat run up her arms and neck and eases her way out of Catra’s arms. Without looking at either of them she storms over to her locker. “Lets just get changed and ready for evening drills. We’ve already wasted so much time.”

* * *

_I put my best foot forward_

* * *

“and Cadet Catra?”

Everyone turns to look at Adora then. She grits her teeth and looks only at Catra. Her eyes are wide, betrayal and shock written across them.

She forces herself not to stutter. 

“Fall in line.”

* * *

_I’ll trace my steps back_

* * *

I’m sorry, Adora wants to say. Catra is walking so close to her, but her hands are closed into fists, and her tail isn’t doing that thing it usually does, where it tries to trip Adora as she walks, or curl around her waist when she’s tired.

I’m sorry, she thinks, when she sees Catra tear apart a simulation bot, uncharacteristically accurate with her blows, when she’d usually be hiding behind the other cadets and pushing them into the line of fire.

I’m sorry, she almost whispers, when there’s a moment alone between them in the locker room just before dinner. Catra hasn’t spoken a word since the afternoon, even though all the cadets expressed uncharacteristic joy at the prospect of the limited gray ration bars being featured at tonight’s meal.

Regardless how much Adora wanted to say something, Catra is the one who speaks first. 

“I got a D, in case you were wondering,” she says. She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at the ground between them. 

Adora had been wondering before, but after she told Catra to get in line, she didn’t care anymore about what her evaluation score was. Now she only cared that Catra was mad at her. Or worse. Disappointed.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” Catra says quickly. “Those tests are stupid, and those instructors are jerks.” Adora can feel herself being sized up by Catra’s glare, but now she’s the one who can’t look her in the eye. “I have nothing to be sorry for.”

She brushes past Adora, and Adora might have fallen apart right there if Catra’s tail didn’t linger a bit on her arm.

* * *

_I’ll lean a little closer just to take a whiff of that_

* * *

“Wait up!”

Adora ties her hair up messily, not caring about the strands of hair that fall loose. She slings her arm around Catra’s shoulder and presses her nose into Catra’s hair.

* * *

_You seem a bit distracted_

* * *

“Even if they are stupid, you could ace them all if you wanted to.” She says that into Catra’s ear, which makes Catra twitch and try and pull away.

Adora keeps her grip firm around Catra’s shoulders so she can't. 

“A-anyways,” Catra stammers. “As long as I know that, and as long as _you_ know that, who cares what score I get?”

* * *

_A little off track_

* * *

Adora wants to say that a lot of people care; their instructors, Shadow Weaver, their fellow Horde Squad cadets. 

* * *

_You’ll turn the light on_

* * *

“Maybe once Lonnie sees how much better than her you are at combat training she won’t pick on you so much?”

Secretly, Adora is pleased that Catra puts her opinion above everybody else’s.

* * *

_I’ll set you right back_

* * *

“Maybe I let Lonnie pick on me so I have a reason to claw her eyes out every afternoon.”

Catra waits to hear Adora’s frustrated grunt of disapproval before laughing, and pushing her friend away. 

Good, she thinks, we were getting along too well anyway.

* * *

_You do me when I’m feeling moody_

* * *

Even though it seemed liked they made up after practice, Catra still avoids Adora at dinner. She doesn’t joke with her like she usually does, when the larger conversation dies down into two person huddles.

Adora eyes Rogelio and Kyle, sticking torn up ration bar wrappers on each other and laughing, and feels something burn in her chest. Her gaze flickers over to her right, where Catra is taking obnoxiously slow bites out of her ration bar, and examining her claws with disinterest.

“Hey.”

“Heyyy.”

“Catra.”

“Catra I know you can hear me.”

“Catra come on, are you still mad?”

Adora reaches over, trying to take the bar from her in an attempt to get a response, and Catra slams her claws down over Adora’s hand. All her nails fit perfectly between the gaps in Adora’s fingers. The only thing scratched up was the table beneath them.

* * *

_We don’t say excuse me when we fight_

* * *

“You’re going to get in trouble for that,” Adora warns.

Catra shrugs, yanking her hand free. “I’ll blame it on Rogelio.”

She still won’t look at Adora so Adora slides a little closer to her, until their shoulders touch.

“Come on,” she whispers, “lets get out of here.”

* * *

_You seduce me when I’m feeling moody_

* * *

There isn’t a single darkened corner of the Fright Zone the two of them haven’t explored. Regardless the consequences, they turned over every molten rock, opened every mysterious door, and time and time again found themselves up inside the watch towers; another place, strictly forbidden.

Catra feels the wind whip her fur, and closes her eyes. When she’s up here, she almost feels free.

* * *

_You know how to do it just right. Just right. Just right. Just right._

* * *

Adora has her arms folded around her waist. Catra is perched comfortably on the railing, and even though Adora has seen her do it a hundred times, she can’t help but worry that one day she’ll lean too far and fall off. Her fingers twitch restlessly against her ribcage. One day, she’ll be brave enough to wrap her arms around Catra’s waist. Pull her down, and make sure she’s safe.

Until then she sidles up to Catra’s side, and blushes when Catra’s tail wraps around her waist. Looking over at Catra it seems she doesn’t know she’s doing it. Adora wonders if she ever knows.

Then Catra begins to purr.

Adora closes her eyes, feeling the vibrations take over her whole body. Even though the wind is fierce, the sound of loud machinery churning is all around them, she’s able to focus in on just this feeling. 

She sighs.


End file.
